


How it begins

by kenderlyn



Series: Lærke the Bard [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenderlyn/pseuds/kenderlyn
Summary: Bard Lærke of Riften has defeated her foes, Alduin, Miraak, Harkon...  maybe one day she'll get that Maven Black-Briar too.  Anyway, the point is, her heroic days are behind her, and now she can settle back to her studies at the Bards' College in Solitude, and maybe get a date with a guy that isn't scared off by the fact that she's The Last Dragonborn.This is not that story.Lærke is Called to a higher purpose.  She really thought she was done with that garbage by now.





	How it begins

Lærke felt a jolt, her eyes snapping open. This was NOT her bed, in the dormitory at the Bards’ College. She looked around wildly.

**Welcome, Dovahkiin.**

"Who-?"

**You are safe, Dovahkiin**

The area she was in began to lighten, revealing a chamber, surrounded by several shadowed altars? There was Akatosh, and Mara, and Talos - all the Divines, really, and there were more, representing the Daedric Princes. Figures began to shift in the shadows. First to emerge was Nocturnal.

**Well, well. You're finally ready, Nightingale.**

Others emerged, Sanguine, Meridia, Herma-Mora, Hircine, and so many more. Shadows hovered by the altars for the nine Divines. One - the Shrine of Akatosh - resolved into the shape of a man, there was a pull, as though she knew him. She recognised the feeling, she felt the same pull towards Paarthurnax, Durnehviir and Odahviing, even Miraak and Alduin. Given the altar behind him, she couldn’t deny it. She knelt to the man.

"Bormah," she said softly, bowing her head, "what do you ask of me?"

**Rise, kril Moni. ** Hesitantly, Lærke stood again, and focused on the father of her soul.

**You have hunted well, ** Hircine informed her calmly.

**We have been watching, Child,** A feminine voice whispered through the chamber. Lærke looked around nervously.

“What is going on? Where am I, and _why_?”

**Nirn is safe, for now,** Azura informed her, **but the next danger is far from here.** Lærke frowned. That was ominous.

“But... Nirn is- You speak as though I have to fix this, to leave Nirn, where would you send me? Am I supposed to go to Oblivion? Is that where the danger is? I’m no mage, to survive such a thing!” Mara took up the thread.

**Not Oblivion. The danger is further than any from Nirn has ever gone. There is a danger approaching, that would endanger even us. **Akatosh took over.

**There are many paths that would lead to the same end, the battle would have been won without you, however all existence would be weakened by the victory. We shall insert you where you can be the most beneficial to the future. Your Dovahsos shall be strengthened. You will have many of the benefits granted to my children,**

“and leave my humanity further behind.” Lærke murmured bitterly. Akatosh’s avatar sighed, and gave her a sympathetic look.

**Yes. There is a price to pay for such power. You will find your Dov traits are closer to the surface, quicker to anger, vicious in defence of that you consider yours. Time will touch you not. However you will also find that Dovahzul comes easier, is more powerful and precise. The Dragon Aspects will be more pronounced should you call that Thu'um.** Lærke took a deep breath. There was no choice, really. If the Aedra and the Daedra were putting aside their differences to tell her of this danger, how could she refuse?

“Where will I be going? What do you need me to do?” Akatosh smiled, the human mask he wore showed pride, _in her_.

**It is a world far from here. We long ago closed Mundus to outside influence, it will take several of us to move you between worlds, and it will take several days to do so. Three days hence, the gate will open to that other world. Take that time to say your farewells. There is no guarantee of your return to Skyrim, Dovahkiin. We are fortunate that you have become Champion to so many of us, that we will have the power needed to move you outside of our realms. Wake, Child. We are with you.**

* * *

Lærke jerked upright, shaking. 

“That wasn’t actually comforting, Bormah.” She muttered. She shivered as she looked to the nightstand, and froze as she saw the Masque of Clavicus Vile, watching her. Last she’d seen of it, she’d left it in Honeyside, on a shelf. “Shor’s _balls_. I think that rules out just being a bad batch of mead.” Lærke took one deep breath, and then another. A scuffing sound made her look out into the dormitory. Viarmo stood at the entrance to her cubicle. “Headmaster! I-I’m sorry, did you need me for something?”

“No, not really. Atar mentioned that you were speaking in the Dragon Tongue in your sleep, so I came down to make sure you were alright.” Lærke frowned.

“I- what! Oh no, I wasn’t Shouting, was I?” Viarmo was quick to reply

“No, thankfully. You mostly sounded confused. Strange dreams?”

“I’m not sure it _was_ a dream, now.” Lærke jerked her head to the Masque. “I know full well that I left that mask in Riften, yet now it sits here, at my bedside.”

“It couldn’t have been moved here as a prank?”

“It’s possible, but coupled with my dream, I’m more inclined to say it’s a reminder, or a warning.”

“Why do you say that?”  
“It’s a Daedric artifact that I received for doing a favour for Clavicus Vile – or rather, for his sidekick, Barbus. I dreamed of... I received a warning, something is coming, but to fight it, the gods need me to leave Skyrim. I had been fully prepared to blame it on a bad batch of mead, along with Master Giraud’s terrible rendition of The Dragonborn Comes, but now...”

“A dream from the Eight?”  
“And more. I was surrounded, The Divines, including Talos, The Daedric Princes, and more that I couldn’t name. They told me that they would send me to where I was needed, in three days time. That there was no guarantee that I would return to Skyrim, so I should put my affairs in order.” Viarmo regarded her for a moment. Thankfully, Lærke' reputation worked for her in this instance. He nodded.

“Then we’ll help. What needs to be done?” Her brow furrowed.

“I have to make sure that if I don’t return, my homes don’t just get swallowed up by the Jarls – or worse, the last thing I need is Maven Black-Briar taking possession of Honeyside. I need to release my Housecarls, and name successors in the guilds I lead. I will need to make sure I have weapons and armour in top condition, and probably backups-“

“Alright. What can the Bards’ College help with. If the gods themselves have asked for your service, we have to do what we can.” 

“I- that sounds so pretentious. A part of me still wants to blame Master Giraud and bad mead.” Viarmo gave a bark of laughter.

“I don’t blame you. Better for us to prepare you, and have it proven as bad mead, than to ignore it, and leave you to fight the coming battles unequipped.”

“True. Right then, books. History, social, recipes, fiction, anything. I can’t predict where the gods would send me, how advanced or primitive the destination is, so I want to have access to all the knowledge. I’ll get food in Riften, since that’s my last destination. I’ll want to say goodbye to my brother before I go. I’ll also need to head to Whiterun, since I have to speak with the Companions, and I’ll get my equipment done with Eorlund Grey-Mane while I’m there. I also have to stop by the house in Falkreath, and put that in order.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do you want me to gather up what I can and then send it to meet you in Riften?”

“That would be best. Like I said, three days. Send it to Honeyside, care of Iona. She’ll know what to do with it if I am pulled away before it gets there.”

“Understood, we’ll get onto that. If I don’t get the chance to talk before you go, good luck, and thank you for everything you’ve done, for the Bards’ College, and for Skyrim.”  


* * *

Lærke straightened, from where she had been leaning against a tree. She was an hour’s travel from Riften, fairly isolated. By her reckoning, whatever the gods had planned would take place soon, but first-

“**Paar thur-nax! Od ah-viing! Durn eh-viir!**” There was a pause, almost as if the world itself were listening, and then she saw large shadows in the distance, as above her a dragon took shape. Good, her dragon allies had not been far. Perhaps they had also been warned what was to come. They seemed in-tune with the gods, sometimes.

“Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin.” Durnehviir greeted her.

“Lok Thu'um, Durnehviir.” The other Dov greeted her similarly as they arrived. She sighed, bowing her head.

“You are soon to leave, Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax noted, sounding oddly gentle.

“I am, Indov. I wanted to say goodbye. The three of you are important to me.” Durnehviir bowed his head.

“We wish you well upon your Wundun, Malbriinah.” Lærke’s head shot up, she moved forward, embracing the lich dragon’s head.

“Kogaan, zeymahi.” She moved to Paarthurnax, repeating the gesture. When she reached Odahviing, she broke down, “I don’t want to go,” she whispered. She saw something in Odahviing’s eyes. A decision made.

“Ruz hi fen ni bo naal gein.” As he finished, there was a tearing sound, and Lærke looked over her shoulder, to see a hole in the air. On the other side, she could see trees, and further away, people. She breathed in, and let it out slowly.

“It’s time.” As Paarthurnax and Durnehviir called farewell to her, she walked over and gathered up the packs she’d brought out with her, and steeled herself to cross the threshold. 

“Saraan,” Odahviing said. Lærke glanced back at him. “Gron hin piraak, we shall fly these new skies together.” Her eyes widened, then narrowed thoughtfully.

“Are you sure? I was told that this was a journey with no return.”

“I am. I find myself frin wah siiv this new sky.” Lærke nodded. She scrambled up Odahviing’s side, dragging her packs, and the pair passed through the portal. As Odahviing’s tail passed over the barrier, it snapped shut behind them. Paarthurnax turned from the portal, as Durnehviir began to fade away, with Lærke's link gone. The ancient dragon bowed his head.

“**Ful mu sizaan dovahkiin**.”

**Author's Note:**

> A few of the dragon tongue phrases: (courtesy of thuum.org)  
Drem yol lok - a greeting between dragons (lit. peace, fire, sky)  
Lok thu'um - a greeting between the Greybeards, Sky (above) Voice (below)  
Indov - Master Dragon (master as in a teacher, with mastery)  
Ruz hi fen ni bo naal gein - Then you will not go alone  
Gron hin piraak - bind your possessions  
Ful mu sizaan Dovahkiin - So we lose (the) Dragonborn


End file.
